nomize and no disgrace to him; but when stomach and purse are both
empty, go to the best house in the town, where they will feed you, and
lodge you, and drink you, before asking questions. Indeed I never shed
many salt tears over the losses of a publican, for he shears so
closely those sheep that have plenty of wool that he may well take
care of an innocent lamb like myself, on which the crop is not yet
grown.

I was drinking quietly and thinking deeply on the wisdom of my father,
who knew the world better than ever his son will know it, when there
was an unexpected knock at the door, and in walked Doctor Chord. I was
not too pleased to see the little man, for I had feared he had changed
his mind and wanted to come with us in the morning, and his company
was something I had no desire for. He was a coward in a pinch, and a
distrustful man in peace, ever casting doubt on the affection I was
sure sometimes that Lady Mary held for me; and if he wasn't talking
about that, sure he went rambling on,--great discourses on science
which held little interest for a young man so deeply in love as I was.
The proper study of mankind is womankind, said a philosopher that my
father used to quote with approval, but whose name I'm forgetting at
this moment. Nevertheless I welcomed the little Doctor and said to
him:

"Draw you up a chair, and I'll draw out a cork."

The little man sat him down, and I placed an open bottle nice and
convenient to his elbow.

Whether it was the prospect of good wine, or the delight of better
company, or the thought of what was going to happen on the morrow, I
could not tell; but it seemed to me the little Doctor laboured under a
great deal of excitement, and I became more and more afraid that he
would insist on bearing us company while the Earl and the Countess
were away at church. Now it was enough to have on my hands two such
models of stupidity as Paddy and Jem without having to look after
Doctor Chord as well, and him glancing his eyes this way and that in
apprehension of a blunderbuss.

"Have you made all your plans, O'Ruddy?" he inquired, setting down his
cup a good deal emptier than when he lifted it.

"I have," said I.

"Are you entirely satisfied with them?" he continued.

"My plans are always perfect plans," I replied to him, "and trouble
only comes in the working of them. When you have to work with such raw
material as I have to put up with, the best of plans have the unlucky
habit of tu